


Love and Marriage

by Cynara



Series: Odalisque:Cabinet [2]
Category: Addams Family - All Media Types
Genre: Archaic Terms, F/M, Gender, Kink, Motherhood, Race, Sacrilege, Taboo, Tropes, Value Reversal, myths, sodomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynara/pseuds/Cynara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odalisque Addams was kidnapped and she turned the tables. This is the story a few years into the marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and Marriage

Odalisque balanced on her knee, hand clutching the back of Adam's neck as he drove into her. He supported them on his left palm, his right stroking up her belly, between her breasts and up to her neck. His strong hand could crush her trachea, snap her neck. He was close, so very close and he started to asphyxiate her, started to pull out.

She wasn't opposed to sodomy, far from it, but he'd been denying her his seed for quite some time, coming in her cunt only when it was useless. Their children were so beautiful, the twins conceived during her captivity and born on their wedding night, their daughter born ten months later. Odalisque could have had him re-chained, rode him until he impregnated her again, but that lacked the savor of him plowing into her, forcing her to conceive their mulattos.

Adam pulled from her dripping and shoved into her asshole. Still cutting off her air he reared back pounding her onto his cock. He released her neck, clutching her as he came, thumb twisting into her pussy. He had marvelously thick fingers.

He was an artist; he'd kidnapped her and his ransom notes were precious. He'd switched to pleas for rescue after she'd had them brought home. He'd stopped that period of creation shortly after the birth of their third child.

Ciara was beautiful despite not being a full albino. Her hair had enough texture to fan out into a nimbus and her features were akin to her father's though Odalisque could see several Adams' traits. Her eyes were blue. She looked so darling playing tag in the moonlight.

Adam pulled out spent, sliding a finger into her cunt. He worked her up and plunged another into her. There were compensations. He crooked his fingers as he thrust and pulled, his big knuckles like beads. Oh, that was an idea, she'd share that later, have him do her like a rosary.

Adam only understood sign, though his hearing was unaffected. They still didn't know who had cut out his tongue or why. Now he worked in paper máche, making larger than life sculptures. She really liked his Venus, which she'd posed for bare breasted and leaning against a stump. Venus was decoupaged with bleached fashion shoot images.

Charmer was also excellent, a high-relief snake-bodied woman right arm stretched up flashing bracelets. It was polychrome as was the Woman and Peacock which was in the round and provided with a much more convincing face than any Leda.

Odalisque whimpered as Adam drew out his fingers, utterly sated and boneless.

\--------------

Adam was in his atelier, right ankle chained to a fluted stone ball. There were disembodied legs stomping warm pulp, hands tearing paper strips and snipping wire net. He was working on an abstract, a complex form as much about absence as volume.

Odalisque liked looking down from the latticed gallery. He had a very efficient area set up that didn't require him to pick up his ball. He could; it was more a reminder of their marriage than anything. Sometimes they'd walk the grounds, he carrying the ball under his right arm, she hopping twined around his left. Just once he should fuck her out there, she knew once he did he'd want to do it again. It was less obvious a carnal garden than a graveyard despite the thickets of thorns and jutting shattered rocks. Andromeda and the Kraken, Hades and Persephone, Prometheus and the Eagle.

She returned to her reading, Malice holding one side of the book.

\----------

Odalisque looked at the shadow the mass of metal, stone and glass cast. The pale grey ostrich was catching up to the dark woman. She signed her approval. He'd stopped working in the allegorical mode after Poseidon as a fishtailed centaur entwined with a cancanesque woman-octopus. That has been his first series not made of paper máche. The rearing centaur precursor sadly didn't go with mid-century modern. This work did.

Perhaps he'd make a zoetrope cylinder of the culmination. She was surprised as he swung her up in his left arm, catching her leg with his right hand. He roiled against her making his intent clear. She gripped his left shoulder in her hand. Adam nuzzled, kneaded, tore her clothes and sheathed himself in her barrow. He propped his left foot on his fetter ball, his left hand spread across her back, right on her thigh pulling and pushing her. He mouthed her, kissed her, thrust, plunged, pistoned and came in her.

He crumpled, sprawling them onto the paving stones. She would get pregnant. Odalisque stretched out on him, keeping him corking her. She kissed him hard, her tongue in his empty mouth. She could feel herself tanning around his hands. He rolled her under him as she started to burn, sinking further into sleep. Odalisque followed.

Adam was fucking her again when she woke up. Brute she signed against his back. He drew her arm around his neck and raised onto his knees, bending her leg to partly support her as he drove into her harder and faster. He was a machine pounding her, tireless, ringing her strike after strike. Shoot, damn it, fire! she carved into his neck as she wrapped her leg around him, planted her heel on his ass. He moved her leg over his shoulder and rushed into her.

She followed him back into sleep unable to move her leg.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a dark ribbon here, Stockholm Syndrome, slavery, marital rape. Race, physical difference, sexuality are all served up in a confounded writhing mass. I present this by the mirror of Comedy, that funhouse looking glass of Other as Reflection.


End file.
